


a moment out of time

by mad_marquise



Category: Baby Driver (2017)
Genre: Drabble, Ficlet, Fluff, Gen, Prompt Fic, background baby/debora
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 06:58:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11374968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mad_marquise/pseuds/mad_marquise
Summary: Baby’s out for a midnight drive, and the only things on his mind are his music, the mellow streetlights, and his new Mercury Sable.





	a moment out of time

**Author's Note:**

> another ficlet! this one was for a tumblr prompt: "streetlamps, new car smell".

Baby’s out for a midnight drive, and the only things on his mind are his music, the mellow streetlights, and his new Mercury Sable.

The Sable is brick red and brand new – still has that leathery new car smell – and Baby bought it fair and square. It’s the result of two years of grinding it out as a delivery man at Goodfellas while taking classes towards an automotive repair license. He’d stayed with Debora, at her place, ever since getting out of prison. The pizza place gave him use of a beaten down old Ford for work. He used public transport for everything else. Once he got his certification, he snagged a job at a garage, and a few paychecks later, was able to put the down payment on the Sable. He’d taken it out for a christening spin with Debora earlier, but right now, though, is the first proper alone time he’s had with it. Back under Doc’s employ, he’d driven cars worth ten times as much as this one, but this one feels better than all of those put together, because it’s _his_. It rides like a goddamn dream.

The music is one of his favorite playlists –  a big, bold mix of stadium rock and electronica. Arcade Fire and Empire of the Sun, Daft Punk and Shiny Toy Guns, everything in between. The volume’s up high, and the warm, shimmery sounds of guitars and synths awash over him. The bass thrums against his seat and his feet. The sound is like a big blanket, wrapping him up.

The streetlights are pleasant golden-yellow blurs, stark against the night sky as he whips past them. Ever since he was a kid, he’d always been especially fond of traffic tunnels because of the rows of streetlights that lined them, bathing the place in a comforting glow. Tonight, on this drive, he still gets a little thrill every time he drives through one.

The gleam of the lights, the hum of his music, the purr of his car going faster, faster on the open highway, with no criminal threat looming over him – in this moment, Baby truly feels fucking otherworldly, timeless – _content_.


End file.
